


The Iceman and the Magpie

by fabricdragon



Series: Amnesia Shuffle [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Amnesia, Criminal Masterminds, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, False Memories, M/M, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-23 01:37:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11979378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricdragon/pseuds/fabricdragon
Summary: Mycroft loses his memory in a terrorist attack and is found  by Jim Moriarty and  Sebastian Moran...is the world ready  for the Iceman and the Magpie?Another in my Amnesia shuffle: this is a WIP and will be updated as i feel like it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mickie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickie/gifts).



Mycroft Holmes had just concluded an extremely delicate negotiation on behalf of the Crown. _God, I hate legwork._ He glared contemptuously at the limousine bar that held nothing but soft drinks and fruit juice. _God knows, I can’t afford to annoy my hosts–even if half of THEIR limousines were full of illicit booze._ He was pouring himself a drink of pomegranate juice when the vehicle–armor plating and all–flipped end over end.

He woke up someplace he didn’t recognize. _Everything hurt. There were people yelling…_ He listened for long enough to realize they were going to film his execution. He slid the lock picks from the lining of his vest and picked the locks, slipping quietly out into the dusty alleyway. He took off as quickly as he could with his balance so completely off. He ran, turning this way and that; eventually, he realized that he would be less obvious if he walked. People stared at him and he realized he must look very different… his head was spinning…

He blinked and got up from a mattress under a tarp. He didn’t remember getting here, but he was nowhere near where he had been. _It was important to keep moving… people were after me…_

He was standing, confused and hot, in what little shade he could find, when a black car with tinted windows went past… _That was familiar…_ It swerved suddenly, then pulled over and started to back up. He turned to run and fell. _Everything was so dizzy…_

“Why, Ice Man… whatever have you gotten yourself into?” a familiar voice hissed at him and everything went black.

...

He woke up feeling better than he had–which wasn’t saying much. He looked around slowly and realized he was in a medical bed, handcuffed to the bedrails, with an IV… There was an armed guard sitting near the door who stood up when he moved. He spoke into a phone, “Sir? He’s awake.”

Shortly afterwards a slim brunet came in. _He looks familiar. He’s the first familiar thing I’ve seen, other than the car…_

“I know you…”

“What kind of silliness is that, Ice Man, darling–of course you know me.” He smiled, and it was not at all friendly. “Whatever were you doing standing by the side of the road like that?”

“I… don’t know. I was running… they were going to kill me.”

The man frowned. “What?”

“I woke up somewhere and the men were going to kill me–as an example.” He frowned, “I picked the locks and escaped and then… I was running.”

“You…” The man’s face went very blank and he stood there for several seconds. “Ice Man, tell me my name.”

“It’s…” Panic welled up. “I don’t know… but I KNOW you! I didn’t know anyone else!”

“Do you remember who you are?”

He froze. “…No…”

The guard was looking wide-eyed and alarmed, but the familiar brunet just said, “I’m James–a lot of people call me Jim, but you always called me James–James Moriarty.”

“That… sounds right, but I don’t remember…” He started shaking.

“Calm down, Mikey…”

“Mikey?” He grasped at it. “Is that my name?”

“Michael… but I always called you Mikey, or Ice Man.” He suddenly lost the upset look and walked over to the bed. “I’m going to uncuff one hand, but you need to stay still: you were severely dehydrated.”

James unlocked the arm that didn’t have the IV and started running his fingers over Michael’s hand.

“I have to apologize, Mikey, I thought you’d run out on us.”

“What?”

“Tiger and I thought you’d skipped out on us–betrayed us. I didn’t know you’d been kidnapped and hurt. I’m sorry.”

The guard’s eyebrows were climbing into his hairline. “Sir?”

He turned his back to look at the man. “Our Ice Man didn’t sell us out, Sebie… That’s why he was dehydrated and with the bruises and concussion symptoms… they kidnapped him. It’s just a good thing they missed the lock picks in his vest.”

The guard–Sebastian–nodded slowly, “If you say so.”

He turned back to Michael. “I know how much you love your suits, daring, but we had to cut it off you: it was in pretty bad shape, though.”

“I’m darling, now?”

“I admit it, I feel guilty for thinking you sold us out.”

He tried to think it over through the headache. “I would never sell anyone out… that doesn’t sound like me.”

“No…” James sighed, “It isn’t really, but… you know I don’t really trust too many people.”

“James… I remember you, or at least I know you… but I don’t remember Sebastian?”

“Sebastian–Tiger–is my sniper, darling. You usually didn’t see him much, but he was your backup on jobs.”

 _That sounded very familiar._ He nodded, “Yes… a sniper, in case… in case things… didn’t go well.”

“But no, you didn’t see him in person as often as I did. Of course, Tiger and I were working together before you joined us.”

“How did I join you? What do we do? I don’t REMEMBER!”

“Okay, calm down, Mikey! You won’t help anything blowing up your blood pressure. Let me get you a few medications and then I’ll try to refresh your memory, okay?”

“Al-alright.” He collapsed back into the bed. _I’m so tired_.

The two of them went away and he looked around the room: _It was very rich, luxurious–almost ostentatiously so–and the medical bed and supplies had obviously been brought in suddenly._

They came back in and Sebastian set up another bag of saline. James took out a syringe and injected the contents into the line–Michael had a moment’s concern about that, but soon he just felt so wonderfully relaxed.

“Oh… No more headache…”

“You were dehydrated, and your kidnappers must have hit you on the head, Mikey.”

“Michael…”

“Your name is Michael.” James’ voice was very level and calm. “You never told me your real last name–you change that a lot–but your name is Michael. I call you Mikey, or Ice Man.”

“Why do you call me Ice Man? I know you do, it’s familiar…”

“Because you’re the best diamond thief in the world, darling… and you do wonderful knife work: never sweat under pressure, always as cool as can be on the job. You just ran into a problematic detective, who got far too close, and you had to leave London–so did I, for the same reason. We had worked together occasionally before, but when we both had to get out of the heat–so to speak–we teamed up full time. That was two years ago.”

“I don’t… diamonds?” _Diamonds?_ _They were called Ice…_ “Diamonds are so boring…”

“I never thought you liked them personally, Ice Man, but you were rather firm about their value in trade, and how much other people liked them.” James’ voice was very soothing.

“People will do anything for diamonds…” Michael smiled slowly; he knew that was true. “People are so stupid… goldfish.”

James laughed, a genuine laugh. “Oh yes, most people are idiots: useful… but idiots.”

“I hate to have to ask, James….”

“It’s alright, ask.”

“Are we lovers?”

James froze and Michael knew he had upset him. “I’m sorry… I just… thought we might have been.”

“I…” James looked momentarily panicky, and then cautious. “You… never expressed any interest.”

“Oh, I was interested. I know I was… I don’t know why I didn’t…” He drifted off into a pleasantly non-headachy, cool comfortable sleep for the first time since he’d been kidnapped.

~

Jim dragged Sebastian out of the room.

“Holy SHIT!” Jim said, collapsing into a chair looking entirely stunned. He dragged his fingers through his hair, making it stand up in odd spikes.

“Which part?” Sebastian asked drily. “The part where Mycroft Holmes is our partner in crime–‘the best diamond thief in the world’–or the part where he thinks you’re his lover?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Djinn rummy

Jim was trying to go over it all. He’d been in the car, bored, minding his own business and then he’d seen a ghost, or a vision, or a djinn: Mycroft Holmes in a tattered suit, standing by the side of the road in a Middle-Eastern country he had no business being in. He’d just stood there staring at them until Jim had shrieked at Sebastian to pull over–then he’d run.

He’d been obviously injured, and had all the signs of heat stroke… They’d cut him out of his clothes and gotten him to their jet, and here they were in Dubai… and he honestly didn’t even know who he was.

“I need a Seal of Solomon!” Jim yelped suddenly after sitting in silence for a few minutes.

“Sure thing, Magpie–why?” Sebastian said opening one eye lazily.

“That’s not Mycroft Holmes–it’s a Djinn!”

“Of course, Mags,” Sebastian sighed. “I’ll get right on it. Anything in specific?”

“Don’t humor me, Tiger! That can’t be Mycroft Holmes.”

“Well, he isn’t: his name is Michael, and he’s the best diamond thief on–”

“He said he was interested in me! The Ice Man isn’t interested in anyone!”

“Well, it was his brother you called the virgin, not him,” Sebastian pointed out. “Maybe he was interested; how could you know?”

Jim jumped up and started pacing; eventually he ran out with a final statement of “Going to the University to research Djinn!”

“Oi…” Sebastian muttered and settled himself in to wait.

…

Michael woke up to find that his remaining handcuff had been removed, and the guard–Sebastian–was doing some needed medical care.

“Where is James?”

“He had one of his IDEAS again,” Sebastian sighed.

“If that should mean something to me, I’m afraid it doesn’t.”

“He’s decided you might not really be My– Michael…”

“What?” Michael sat up slowly–Sebastian helped. “Who else would I be?”

“He’s speculating that you’re a Djinn, taking Michael’s form to play tricks on us. He’ll get over it, but he may wave a bit of iron in your face first.”

Michael stared at him. _He was telling the truth._ “Why would he think THAT?”

Sebastian sat down next to the bed. “I keep forgetting you don’t know everything… Alright,” he looked intently at Michael. “There are some things that simply aren’t my business to tell you, you understand, but… there are some things you need to know, or this is going to blow up in all of our faces.”

Michael considered: Even though he didn’t know this man, he felt that he could trust him–there was something very honest about him. “Very well, do go on.”

“First of all, I will never, ever, do anything that I think would hurt Jim, and if you ever try to hurt him I will kill you.” Sebastian said it as a fact, like “This is just information you might want”, not as a threat. Michael nodded. “That means there are questions I won’t answer, and things I won’t tell you–even if I would if it was just up to me.”

“You answer to James, obviously, not to me. So what’s all this about Djinn?”

“Jim, for all the fact that he is brilliant, and the added fact that he sneers at the church and at religion in general–if you ask him about God he can go off on a tear about it: I don’t recommend it–is actually scarily superstitious in some ways...”

 _That sounded very strange._ “He is?”

“He is. He believes, utterly believes, that there are faeries, for instance. I never heard him say a word about Djinn before, but I bet to him they are just Middle-Eastern faeries.”

“But he doesn’t believe in God?”

“He SAYS he doesn’t… I think he just hates the church with a passion because of his childhood or something, but I don’t try to argue with him on the point.”

“So he thinks I’m a djinn?” Michael was having some trouble wrapping his mind around the idea.

Sebastian shrugged. “He thought I was a rakshasa for a few weeks…”

“You know this is mad, right?”

“Mate, if you haven’t figured out that Mags is mad, you aren’t trying; but he’s brilliant anyway.”

“Mags?”

“Magpie. It’s his nickname, like Tiger is mine, or Ice Man is yours.”

“Ah,” Michael sighed. “So why does he think I’m a djinn?”

“Because you said you were interested in being lovers and he panicked, I think.”

“… What?”

Sebastian sat back and stared at him. “Without going into things I can’t… In the past, you never showed any sign that you were interested. Now, I know there are a lot of reasons you could have been and not given a hint–Ice Man is your nickname for more reasons than just diamonds: you’re really good at not showing anything when you don’t want to…” Sebastian shook his head and went on. “Anyway, he panicked and now he’s wondering if you’re a djinn trying to trick him or something. He’ll come back with a Seal of Solomon, or a chant, or just a couple weeks of suspicion, and then he’ll get over it.”

“That… sounds really peculiar.”

“It IS peculiar,” Sebastian laughed, “but HE’s peculiar.”

“So what should I do?”

“Well, if you really are interested in him, follow up? Spend time with him personally? If not, well… give him some space and point out that you were out of your head on meds and he’ll go back to business.”

Michael considered. “I think I was interested in him. I don’t remember, but it feels right. I don’t know why I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“Lots of folks never mix business and pleasure,” Sebastian shrugged.

“So you two aren’t… um…?”

Sebastian laughed, “I love Jim like a brother. He made a for-real pass at me–as opposed to general flirting: he flirts like he breathes. We talked about it, and the simple answer is he’s gay and I’m not. I love him–and anyone who wants in better understand we’re a package deal–but I’ll never be his lover.”

“He ordered you around, but I could tell there was more than that.”

“Yeah, he’s a bossy shit.” Sebastian shrugged. “He’s the genius. I’m smart, but I’m not him. You… You’re in his league, from what he says–I dunno how well that will work.”

“So… when will he be back?”

“God only knows: I don’t. You play cards?”

…

When Jim got back a few days later–with a Seal of Solomon in brass and one in iron, just in case–he found ‘Michael’ and Sebastian sitting at the table with cards all over it in front of them, several guns, and some of Jim’s throwing knives.

“Uh… Tiger?” He looked around dubiously–Michael looked much better.

“Jim! Did you know Michael was holding out on us?”

Michael flipped a card onto the table and laughed, and it was such a surreal expression on the Ice Man’s face that Jim just stared at him for a few before he managed to ask, “What do you mean, Sebie?”

“The man is a machine at cards! Not only is he the best card counter I ever saw, but he double deals so well even I can’t catch him!”

“What?” Jim slowly came forward. “Show me,” he demanded.

“Pull up a seat.” Michael flashed a wicked smile and then went back to his usual mildly amused expression. _He looked fun–since when did the Ice Man look FUN?_

They each got a pile of pretzels as poker chips and started playing. Jim knew he was cheating–the cards simply couldn’t come up that way that often–but he couldn’t prove it. In short order he was out of pretzels, and Michael leaned forward and smirked, “Want to switch to a different ante?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“There’s always strip poker…”

“Aaaaaaaand I’m out!” Sebastian laughed. “You two have fun. Don’t do anything I need to patch up!” He got up and walked out.

“You… are a remarkably good card player, even if you cheat,” Jim said slowly.

“I still don’t remember anything much, but I feel like I probably earned a good bit of money gambling–especially with cards. College, maybe? Or… against college students?”

“I… To be honest, I don’t know much of your background,” Jim admitted.

“I don’t expect I told you much,” Michael shrugged, “but then, if you told me anything I don’t remember.”

“Err… well, no. To be honest, I hardly told you a thing.”

“Sebastian says you don’t believe I’m interested in you.”

“It… uh… does seem unlikely.” Jim looked down at the table and reorganized his cards.

“He also said you think I’m a djinn.”

“I’ll skin him. I’ll make a tiger skin rug out of him!”

“And that you thought he was a rakshasa?”

“Only for a week!”

“Why did you think he was a rakshasa?”

“… Because.” His voice hesitated a little, and loneliness leaked out.

Michael arched an eyebrow and stared at him. “Because you trusted him; and you liked him; and, as you said, you don’t generally trust people–so it had to be a trick.”

“Fuck.” Jim sighed and sat back.

“You aren’t telling me something about our past… and you’re afraid I’ll betray you.” Michael was looking at him intently. “You… No, that doesn’t make sense. Why would I betray you? It’s not like me.”

Jim stared at him and finally cleared his throat. “No, I don’t think you would betray someone if you made a decision with all your wits about you, but… you aren’t… yourself, right now.”

“And you think when I get my memory back, I’ll change my mind?”

“I… really didn’t think you liked me, before,” Jim said finally.

“And that’s enough to think I’m a djinn?” Michael smirked at him.

“You showed up suddenly by the side of the road that I HAPPENED to be driving on, in a country I had no expectation of you being in, with amnesia… You have to admit it sounds kind of iffy.”

Michael blinked a lot and then frowned. “Actually, that does sound rather suspicious.”

“See?”

“I’d be inclined to think YOU set it up to kidnap me and hurt me, except for the fact that I’m pretty sure no one had any way of predicting I would end up on the side of that road–even me.” Michael was looking at him suspiciously.

Jim looked back at him thoughtfully. “Don’t ask me anything else about our past or about me… but…” He got up and walked around to Michael and took his hand, bringing it up to his own throat. “I know how you work, Michael–you have trouble deducing me, I know…”

Michael stood up, frowning, and looked down at him.

Jim looked up at him and stared him right in the eyes–something, now that Michael thought about it, that James never did–and with Michaels hand on the pulse in his throat he said, “I thought you were in England–I still think you might be and this is a djinn or something. I thought I was seeing things when I saw you by the side of the road. I had nothing to do with you being hurt this time, and no expectation of ever seeing you again.”

_Truth. Every word. Even to the admission that he had hurt him before in some way–but not this time._

Jim moved his eyes aside and took Michaels hand away from his pulse.

“Alright… I believe you: you didn’t do it,” Michael nodded.

“I admit to taking advantage of finding you like that.”

“Well… so would I.” Michael shrugged. “How do I prove I’m not a djinn?”

Jim considered that–considered the Seals in his pockets–and finally said, “You don’t. I have to admit that if you are a djinn, you’re a very pleasant one, and I’m not inclined to run you off as long as you don’t hurt us.”

Michael shot him a perplexed smile, “You are a very strange man.”

“Ice Man, that may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Michael slid his arms around Jim’s waist. “So… want to take me up on that interest I was apparently idiot enough not to follow up on before?”

Jim’s eyes snapped up to his and held for a moment before shuttering and sliding away–it was enough to see the first flickers of interest and a wistful loneliness in Jim’s eyes–“If you were just a casual shag, sure; if you want to be something more than that, Ice Man… no.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you really are you, and not a djinn, then you don’t remember enough to make that decision yet. If you’re serious? Get to know me and ask again later.”

Michael stepped back and nodded. “Alright. While you were gone, though, I remembered something.”

Jim almost stopped breathing, “Oh? Remembered what?”

Michael smiled a devilishly quirky smile, “The biggest opportunity of our careers.”


	3. Chapter 3

Michael dragged Jim over to Jim’s computer and opened it.

“That was password protected!”

“I cracked it,” Michael said calmly.

“It was a rotating sequence of–”

“I’m REALLY good.” Michael grinned up at him and opened up a webpage: it was showing a hotel complex in Monte Carlo.

“Robbing a casino?”

“Oh heavens, no: they have no sense of humor and are completely legitimate, so they report thefts. As it happens, however–and I must have been working on this before the attack and my amnesia–I remembered that THIS hotel complex is where a very big meeting will be taking place in a month.” Michael smiled over at Jim who was leaning forward to look.

“In one month, this location will host a yearly gathering where all exchanges have to be in untraceables. There will be agents from most of the intelligence agencies and criminal–”

“The Conclave? It’s in Monte Carlo this year?”

“Yes.” Michael grinned and purred into his ear, “And we are going to rob them, and they will blame each other or whoever wasn’t invited, and not one of them can publically say a word… and everyone pays in information, trade diamonds, or bearer bonds… I do hope you won’t think less of me, Magpie, but while diamonds may be shiny, bearer bonds are much nicer.”

Jim stared at the image of the hotel and turned his head slowly to face Michael, so close their lips were almost touching and his brown eyes were locked onto Michael’s grey-green. “Bearer bonds, Michael, are very shiny things indeed.”

Jim stood up slowly and stared at him. “You… want to rob the Conclave?”

“Think about it: people have tried to rob individuals on their way to and from the Conclave; they’ve tried to rob individuals at the Conclave; but during the Conclave itself most of the money will be in the hotel safe–after all, it’s good enough for the casinos...”

“You… are a surprisingly ambitious criminal, Michael…”

“We’ll need a lot of distractions, the security pulled away, and I’ll need to get access to the security chief to get the combination…”

“You think you can break him before people notice?”

“Oh, no… I just need a few hours or days to chat–just chat–at the hotel. That should get me the combination within a few percentage points–I can crack the safe from there.” Michael smirked and waved at Jim’s laptop, “It’s just another password.”

Jim felt himself smile despite himself. “Orchestrating other people’s actions is my specialty… I can definitely get the time and the transport…”

“So?”

“Let me call in Sebastian and we’ll get planning.”

Michael cocked his head. “Don’t get me wrong–I like him–but why do we need him for this?”

“Because he knows what well-trained but ordinary people can be expected to actually pull off–I used to expect too much of people, or too little, and it caused errors.”

“Oh.” Michael blinked a few times. “That’s… brilliant, actually.”

“He’s also very good at the practical issues–things I forget.” Jim nodded and went out and came back with Sebastian, who was half naked and holding a toothbrush.

Michael’s eyes popped a bit. “Uh…”

Sebastian grinned, “Still straight, but thank you.”

Jim pointed at the laptop with a pleased expression. “Michael hacked my laptop!”

Sebastian stared at the laptop and then at Jim, “I thought you said nobody could.”

“He actually cracked my password! No one has ever done that–I mean, unless I let them.”

“Ooo-kay… That’s not a problem?”

“No. Michael has come up with the most brilliant criminal plan I have ever heard,” Jim shivered and his eyes were completely mad. “We’re going to rob the Conclave, Sebie!”

“The what?”

“That big yearly meeting I told you about where the CIA and MI6 and all those other TLAs all pretend they aren’t dealing with the Russian Mob and the cartels and… well, me… and trade?”

“I thought we only dealt with that by proxy, and we haven’t even done that since you faked your death…”

“Exactly!”

Michael smiled, “A kingdom’s yearly GNP in bearer bonds and trade diamonds–among other things–will be in that safe.”

They went over it with Sebastian. Sebastian started giving them the hard numbers: how much it would cost; who they would need; how fast the response times would be.

Michael nodded to Jim, “I see your point. I would have assumed a slower response in some areas and more people in others.”

“That is the problem, darling; it’s why Sebastian is so needed! He’s smart enough to keep up, but he can still figure out the ants.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Mags… By the way, there’s a potential profit you two are overlooking.”

“And that is?”

“Let Moriarty get hired by some of these agencies to retrieve their stolen goods, only for the things that aren’t bearer bonds and all–you know, like flash drives or something.”

“Oh, you brilliant stripy beast you!” Jim breathed, “Isn’t he magnificent Ice Man? Couldn’t you just eat him with cream?”

“I could; sadly, he seems disinterested.” Michael smiled and for just a flickering second he looked like Jim again; Sebastian stared between the two of them and groaned.

“If I let you two fuck me will it get it out of your systems?”

“Sadly, I suspect it might whet my appetite for Tiger,” Michael said, running an eye over him appreciatively.

“Then no. N-O. Jim, I love you like a brother, and I think I could get to the same point with Mikey–weirdly enough–but until one of you develops gender flipping technology… no.”

“Alas, I shall simply have to content myself with a Magpie…” Michael said looking predatorily at Jim.

“Mikey… you pull off your part of this heist, and you can have your way with me on any beach you name.”

“Beach?” Michael shuddered. “Sunlight, pollution, and sand in places I dislike? No… I prefer an exclusive hotel and sheets with thread counts that can’t be measured by the naked eye.” He leaned over and whispered at Jim, “And staff who are paid handsomely to get stains out of said sheets.”

Jim stared at him…

“Ice Man, we never would have argued if that was the way you talked to me the first time we met.”

*

They spent the next month in planning: Michael slipped into it as though he had always been there, his careful precision and caution counterbalancing Jim’s wild flights and sideways thinking; Sebastian organizing all the ordinary-extraordinary people they needed for this–most of whom would never really understand what they had been a part of.

Part way through the planning, Jim sat down with Michael and looked at him very solemnly, “Mikey, you need to hear something now, because if it causes a problem later this could blow up badly.”

“Ah?”

“You know I have other identities.”

“Of course.”

“You did too.”

“Naturally.”

“It’s entirely possible some of these people may know one of your identities, and if that rattled you…”

“Do you know any of them?”

“Just… one. The one you were using when we had our… fight.”

“I’m not a fool, James. I think it’s pretty obvious it was more than just a fight.”

“We were playing opposite sides on something and it got nasty, alright? I prefer not to remember it.”

“I hurt you didn’t I? It’s why you were so willing to believe I’d sold you out…”

“Yes…” Jim sighed. “I suppose I’m afraid if you remember it suddenly we won’t be able to handle this.”

“You think hearing that cover identity would possibly bring back a memory of that time?”

“I don’t know,” Jim chewed his fingernail, “it might.” _I mean, assuming you aren’t a Djinn, and assuming that isn’t how I banish you._

“Then settle it now,” Michael said calmly. “Who was I then?”

“You were playing the role of some minor government bureaucrat named Mycroft Holmes.”

Michael sat there and looked annoyed, and it was very much like one of the old Mycroft annoyed looks.

“What an utterly ridiculous name.” He shrugged, “I suppose I picked it because I needed people to remember me? It seems rather overdramatic, though.”

Michael sat back, “Anyway, Magpie darling, where are we going to retire to with our ill-gotten gains? I don’t mind beaches terribly, as long as I only have to go out on them after dark and there’s enough to drink.”

Jim let himself breathe again and slowly smiled, “I was thinking the Grand Caymans… All those lovely banks…”


End file.
